


Home

by ApeironStella



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Chain!Elliot, Gen, M/M, Sort of AU, Spoilers up to Retrace 62, The Core is a matchmaker apparently, also can be read as platonic or romantic tbh, also me??? writing not as angsty stuff????, also this was done in one sitting on a whim, can not believe, go the fuck to the sleep ira ffs, hats off to you girl, jk but also not, mom look I finished a story for once, shout out to Alex for putting up with my angst, truly incredible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApeironStella/pseuds/ApeironStella
Summary: [He finds himself leaning on him, on his Contractor, as Leo catches him, looking just as tired and spent, but just as relieved, plain and simply happy, his small smile turning to a tired one, as he says "Let's go home."](Or, becoming a Chain might not be that bad, after all.)





	Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexClaain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexClaain/gifts).



> Quick note: This is a slight AU for how Chains and Illegal Contracts work. Basically, in this version, if you die from your Incuse, your soul gets completely destroyed in the deepest part of the Abyss; while rejecting a Chain ends up with you ending up at a higher level, where you will turn into a Chain as a punishment, which is fitting as it is basically being discluded from the Hundred Year Cycle until you die as a Chain.

**The Core** is _screaming_.  
  
Terrified, possessive, protective, fierce, scared, _like a little child_ , a little child who wants nothing more but to be not _lonely_. He feels it in his head, _in his being_ , reverberating as he is filled with a desire to _kill_ , to _protect_ and an immense amount of **fear**.  
  
This is what he finds himself waking up to, first thing he recalls but except it is not _the first_ , not quite, for he remembers soft and quiet mutters of **the Will** , asking and begging for it to _stop_ , that she is _tired of this_ and it is _e n o u g h_ , growing frantic and unhinged and begging, begging until her throat hurts, for _someone_ to **save her** , a cycle that repeats as long as he knew himself, but that's not quite true either- he feels, _knows_ , somehow, someway, before he even existed and even after he would no longer exist, it would _still continue_.  
  
It is confusing, but at the same time, not at all, for the time does not exist here, not in the way it does in **The World** , a world he knows intrinstically, from the times sweet and tender voice of **the Will** filled him on the knowledge, of what he is and where he is, what everything _is_ , and it is not the first time he is awake - _ **The Will** , she was the one to whisper to him that it was a **he**_ \- but it is first time **The Core** is the one screaming, yet it is still the voice of **the Will** , but not quite. Not _quite_.  
  
His hand goes to the hilt of his sword, instinctively, knowing it to be there despite not having hands, not exactly, nor a sword, but he might as well have one, for it feels _right_. The _desire_ , _need_ , _will_ to protect **the Will** , from _anyone and everyone and everything - **especially HIM, HIMHIMHIMHEHURTHERHEHURTITSPRECIOUSALICESTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYALICEALICEALICE** -_ overwhelms him until he can't think of anything else, for _moments and days and weeks and years---_ And yet, it is gone, as soon is as it starts, leaving it to a desire to _cry, to scream, wail, fear, yet not having the voice to do so, flashing images crossing and filling his vision, his mind, and a sense of despair, of unfathomable loneliness_ that creeps its way to _his being_ , to _his core_ , and shakes his entire existence.  
  
He takes a shaky breath, or he would, if he had _lungs_ and if there was _air_ , in **the Abyss** , hands shaking and holding his head, sword sheathed, glimmering and crystal clear, and he wipes the tear tracks that don't exist, as he tries to gather himself, try to console **the Core** , now quiet, the loneliness never quite leaving, making his non existent heart _ache_.  
  
**The Core** is quiet, for longer than he is used to, _they_ are used to, if the reactions of other **Chains** around is anything to go by, but before they can question it, it is _warm, gentle, and calm_ , _golden lights_ surrounding them as he feels like he _can_ breathe, chest not hurting as much and filled with a new found, tentative _hope_ , of smiles and chatters and _love_ , and he feels himself take a deep breath he doesn't need. **The Core** is no longer silent, though timid, more timid than it was with **the Will** 's voice, but he knows, somehow, that this _new voice_ does not belong to **the Will** , or someone else, for that matter.  
  
It does not belong to someone else but to **the Core** , and that's where he finds it _odd_ , where it feels _**wrong**_ , the not-yet-over-puberty boyish voice with that timidness does not feel right, but when **the Core** _laughs_ , it feels warm, familiar, and **right** , like it should be, as that voice only feels fit to be heard with _light_ , like the _golden lights_ surrounding him, a flash of _golden and emerald_ , images he does not quite understand yet _sense_ that he _knows_ , sense that belongs to **the Voice** , rather than to **the Core** , and he feels confused, why **the Core** has _that voice_ , and why he feels that it does **not** _fit_ , as much as a part of him, the part that is _made of, connected to_ **the Abyss** , whispers that it is _**right**_.  
  
He is confused, but his heart is _light_ , with that wind chime of laughter, that high pitched one that flares a flame of _anger_ inside him, somehow, _annoyance_ and _tea parties_ and _swords_ and _knights_ \--- he does not know where to place all those pieces, yet he _feels_ them, just as much as he feels the _fondness_ gently wrapped around them all.  
  
He is confused, for it is now _light_ all around them as well, **the Chains** that were attacking each other just _moments_ ago, or perhaps _centuries_ , stopping on their tracks as they try to decipher _what is going on_ , ires they have with each other forgotten for the moment. **The Core** , with _that voice_ , tells them, tells them _tales, of **The World** , of **The Humans** , of **The Chains**_ , and they _listen_ , for that's _all they can do_. They listen, and find themselves relax, he can see it, _sense it_ , but a part of him, a part he does not understand, still feels something is **off** , despite finding himself _smiling_.  
  
Yet, he laughs, too, for _what_ , he doesn't know, and he can see all **The Chains** , attacking, killing, hurting, eating, tearing each other _for an eternity_ , now sit with the new found _peace_ , marvelling at the _lights_ surrounding them and the _tales_ **The Core** spins. He listens, eager, for it is **The Core** , and they are _stories, stories_ that feel _familiar_ , _stories_ that feel like _strangers_ and _stories_ where he can _almost taste in his mouth_ , taste the _names_ that his mind tries to _recall_ , despite not knowing if he even _can_ recall, if there is _anything_ to recall, yet there _has_ to be, for they taste _bitter_ , they taste _sweet_ , they taste like **home**.  
  
He is trying to gather pieces of a puzzle _he had never seen_ , yet _he must have seen, for them to be here at all_ , and he feels, something, _someone_ tugging at his _being_ , firmly, gently, _beckoning_ him at its call. He _obeys_ , listening to that _correct-yet-wrong_ voice, **The Core** 's excited whispers as the pull gets more frantic, but it is not the kind where he feels the _pain_ , the _pain_ he has felt coming from **The Core** countless times, so he simply allows himself to tesser out of the existence, diffused until he reaches to where **The Core** resides.  
  
As he gains a shape again, solidifies, inside a room that streches for an eternity despite not being that big to begin with, there are _furniture_ , what they are called, though, he does not know, yet he feels he had seen such things, at some point, or maybe he hadn't, and there are two figures, two **Humans** there, but they are _not_ **Humans** , one smells _sweet_ and _strong_ and a shiver goes down his spine, from the _power_ he feels oozing out of **The Human** , _**The Man**_ , he knows that much but he is short, shorter than what they call a _Man._ A **Baskerville** , **The Glen** , **The Core** whispers, with _that voice_ again, and he finds that being so close to **The Core** feels almost suffocatingly overwhelming.  
  
He finds himself kneeling, the moment **The Core** moves, his entire being _alert_ and _thriving_ at once, and he hears hands clapping, in a pleased gesture, as he feels the radiance of a thousand smiles inside his being even with his head down, out of reverence.  
  
" _Hey, get up! And see? I told you I found him!"_   an excited voice calls, echoing with a reverberance he doesn't recall hearing from **The Core** , not when he hears it _inside his head_ , at least, and it feels **wrong** to hear _that voice_ **distorted** like that, but he finds himself standing tall, finally his eyes falling on them. **The Core** , has that golden hair and emerald eyes, ones he has felt the flashes of, of... he does not know what, but he knows, feels that _those colours_ _belongs to that voice indeed, that body belongs to that voice,_ one _undistorted_ and _bubbly_.  
  
As he keeps his posture, despite feeling like shaking his head to clear it, for it would be _unfit to do_ in **The Core** 's presence, he simply watches until **The Core** addresses him again, but **The Core** is talking with **The Glen** , that _good smelling one_ , and he has _black hair and purple eyes_ _-ones reflecting the golden lights, he knows, somehow-_ and he finds himself gulp despite not needing to do so, but for once, finding himself _able_ to. He blinks, furrowing his eyebrows and next thing he notices is a flash of _black_ , moving towards him rapidly, as his hand goes to hilt of his sword, _the crystal clear_ one he _now has_ , he finds, before arms are wrapped around him, in....in what, **The Core** , whispers to him is a _hug_.  
  
His body is tense, involuntarily, and he feels the arms around him _shaking_ , _a wet spot_ on his shoulder and the hold is _tight_. He does not understand, what is going on, and when he looks at **The Core** , it is _crying_ too, so he starts drawing his sword, until **The Core** 's eyes, _ones that still feels like they don't belong to it but rightfully do_ , widens and it shakes its' head, and his hand stops unsheading the sword, as **The Man** , **The Glen** , starts to talk.  
  
" _You are here. You are **here**. You are **alive** \--- I---_" He doesn't understand, what **The Glen** means by that, though he finds himself relax at the _scent_ , not the _thrilling one of the power_ , no, but the one of _books_ and _sweaters_ and _cinnamons_ and _greasy hair_ , as flashes of _pianos_ and _glasses_ and _laughters_ and _sweet smiles_ and **home** , passes, and before he knows it, he finds himself wrapping his arms back around **The Glen** , and somehow, his heart _aches_ at the shaky breaths and laughs, with an almost _hysterical_ and _incredulous_ edge to them, how **The Glen** repeats a name that feels _all too familiar and **right**_ , but also **not right** , not _now_ , but it once **did** and it _still_ **does**  
  
" _ **Elliot...**_ " **The Glen** , breathes, draws his face back to place one of his hands on **The Chain** 's very own cheek, hold _gentle_ and still, there is that _tremble_ , eyes frantically moving all over **The Chain** 's face, looking for _something_ , something **The Chain** doesn't know _what_ , as all he knows is that his cheeks are damp too, with the hand moving to wipe the tears he had not realized he _could_ and _did_ spill.  
  
He feels his tongue burn in response, to the name he calls, torn between digging _deeper_ , deeper to find that name that _burns his heart_ , one that _beats_ now, but he is not a **Human** , so it _shouldn't be_ , except it _does_ for all the reality it has. His other side, one that _rightfully_ feels his existence, _being_ as a **Chain** , one that knows his name, **True Name** as a **Chain** , wants to retort with his name is not **Elliot** , except it _is_ , it _was_ , it _will be_ , but that it _is_ , it _will be_ but it _never_ _was_ **White Knight**.  
  
" _ **Elliot...**_ " **The Glen** , repeats, again, with a _plea_ to it, a plea for **The Chain** to _respond_ , in some way, to say _that name_ that **burns** as he finds himself take a shaky breath as well, feeling something flicker inside him, something that _clicks_ , something or _someone_ gently, gleefully nudging him towards a _veil_ he was not aware was there in the first place, but _oh, it makes sense, it makes so much sense_ why he was so confused now, and _the piece_ is the answer to his _question_ , one of many, but the _most pressing_ one, right now.  
  
" _Leo..._ " He tries, savors, and he is just as breathless, he finds, for all the feelings he can't quite get a grasp on for there are _so many_ of them, passing _so fast_ and _swift_ that he feels his head _spin_ , leaving him _dizzy_ and his own arms tightening his grasp, for he feels **fear** , even if he doesn't understand, _fear that he could lose him if he let him go_ , the fear he felt resonating from **The Core** so many times that he knows the _name for it_ , for all he doesn't know **why** he fears so.  
  
" ** _Leo_.** " he repeats, and he finds that he is now hearing sobs of **The Man** \--- of **The Glen** \-- of _**Leo**_ \--- as he laughs, and sobs, and nuzzles his face on **The Chain** 's--- **White Knight** 's--- _**Elliot**_ 's neck.  
  
"Thank God, _Thank God_.... It is _**you**_ , it _really_ **_is_** you..."  
  
And he laughs too, because it feels like the pieces are falling into the place just **right** , even if he can't quite see them yet, even if he can just _sense_ them yet, it is fine. It _feels_ **fine** , and it feels **right** , and it feels like **home** , it feels like _he never wants to let go_ , and he finds himself, vowing to **himself** and to **him** and to **The Core** , that he **never** would, _never again_ , he would _never lose him again because---_ because he _is_ _**Leo**_ , he is _**Leo**_ and he _is_ _**Home**_ , and he _misses_ it, he misses **Home** and misses _him_.  
  
" _I missed you_." he says, his own laughter sound in his ears, and he finds that he doesn't mind that, doesn't mind that at all because _**Leo**_ echoes it back, smell of **home** making it to his nose as he burries his face in his hair. _**Leo**_ places a hand on his, both still shaky, he hadn't realized he was shaking too, but a bit calmer, and he takes deep breaths and his chest feels _light_ , somehow even lighter than the time those _golden lights_ flooded into **The Abyss** , removing a **curse** none of them, none of **The Chains** were aware of, a **curse** that drew them to _hurt_ , to _kill_ , to _hate_ , to _survive_ -  
  
"I...." _**Leo**_ sniffs, other hand now wiping at his cheeks, cheeks that are _red_ and _wet_ and slightly strained with that small, _sincere_ smile. "I missed you too, _you idiot."_  
  
**The Core** enters his vision again, he tenses, for a moment, for he completely _forgot_ **The Core** 's presence somehow, but _no_ , he realizes, he never can _truly_ forget its' presence, he was simply _allowed to_ , and **The Core** pats _**Leo**_ on the back, looking _happy_ , looking _proud_ and he feels that too, a pleasant hum at the edge of his consciousness.  
  
"Thank you. _Thank you so much_ , _**Astra**._ " **Leo** says, to **The Core** , smile still not quite wide, but _sincere_ , still looking _half dazed_ , his sight still on him, on _**White Knight**_ , as if he _fears_ that he would disappear the moment he takes his eyes off from him longer than a minute. He is surprised to feel that sentiment is quite **mutual** , and relaxes at seeing **The Core** \--- _**Astra**_ , is _not_ mad at him, at them. **The Core** was always known to be mercurial with its' moods, he knows, so he just squeezes the hand of the other, finding their fingers getting laced as a _content sigh_ leaves his lips.  
  
" _ **Elliot**_ , make a _contract_ with me." _**Leo**_ says, _orders_ , for he can sense that it is an _order_ , somehow, even if it isn't, for he is a **Baskerville** , for he is **The Glen** , and he finds himself obey it, as disappointing as it is to unlace their fingers. He finally takes his sword out, one made out of _glass_ , lights dancing and twinkling over the blade as he runs his index finger over it and small drops of _crimson_ leaks out, gentle hands raising them to _**Leo**_ 's face.  
  
" _ **White Knight**_ ", says **The Chain** , for it is his **True Name** , as much as _**Elliot**_ feels _just_ as **right** and _just_ as _**wrong**._  
  
" _ **White Knight.**_ " repeats **The Glen** , **The Baskerville** , _**Leo**_ , and places his lips over the cut, " _I accept you_." and all _**White Knight**_ can see is _blinding white_ for a moment as he feels the **rush** , he feels the _power surge_ and he feels--- he feels the _bond_ , the _tie_ , the _chains_ forming, between _his soul_ and _**Leo's**_ , between that _old soul spinning through the cycle for hundreds and thousands of years, with no **veil** to forget the past, unlike other souls_ , and his _younger, or maybe just as old but forgetful one for he sees not beyond the **veil**_ , and he feels, if he tugs on it, he can feel what _**Leo**_ _feels_ and it is _overwhelming_ for a moment, knocking his breath out.  
  
He finds himself leaning on him, on his _Contractor, as_ _**Leo**_ _catches him_ , looking just as _tired_ and _spent_ , but just as _relieved_ and plain and simply _happy_ , his small smile turning to a tired one, as he says " _Let's go home._ "

**Author's Note:**

> This AU did not let me sleep properly for last few days and I simply had to do something with it so after spending entire day thinking about it, I had enough and spammed our Elleo chat with Alex and Nana with the entire Oneshot until I was done because for some reason, my monkey brain thinks that writing on Discord group chat is better than properly writing it in a Word document or something, so shout out to them for dealing with my AUs all the time.
> 
> Also, this all started with this lovely little fanart: http://www.surfacage.net/post/8191042346/more-chainelliot
> 
> And it... escalated, until it became its' own monster as I was originally planning for much, much more angst but also wanted to play with how it could be for someone to turn into a Chain so this happened. I am satisfied with it mostly, though I am fine with constructive critism always <333 
> 
> Peace out, y'all.
> 
> ~Ira
> 
> (PS. This is surprisingly happy compared to most of what I end up writing/headcanoning, though mainly because I was depressed entire weekend because of said headcanons so I needed a break from it with an happy ending, perhaps)
> 
> (PPS. Emily look I actually wrote a complete story can you believe? Me either)
> 
> (PPPS. I will probably edit/update things later on if something catches my eye, but please feel free to let me know any mistake you catch <3333)
> 
> (PPPPS. Astra is our HC name for The Core since it was named in the finale, but we never heard what the name was.


End file.
